


Live and Let Die

by letsdropacidpops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 6th year lily!, F/M, Gen, hardcore lily love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsdropacidpops/pseuds/letsdropacidpops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Lily was going to die, her murderer must prepare to fight for their own life. If someone would have the audacity to try to claim hers, she had every right to try and take theirs. To whom it may concern, Lily Evans was no sitting duck or easy target, and she may, quite really, most definitely, be completely and royally screwed— but if she was going down, she wasn’t going down alone or easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Live and Let Die

(When you were young and your heart was an open book)

Mid-August was Lily’s favorite time of summer. She still had enough time to remain relaxed but had the excitement of school just around the corner. The only one awake in the Evans’ household, Lily was leaned into a window nook, rereading Pride & Prejudice for the countless time. Reading was her favorite past time, and by having a summer job she was unable to read during the day although that was perfectly fine with her. Lily enjoyed summer nights as well; just her in a seemingly asleep world. It was silent too, having picked up the needle from the record player hours ago, Lily allowed her mother and sister to sleep without a Elton John intrusion. 

Lost within Elizabeth’s pride and Darcy’s prejudice, it was only when she paused to drink her water that she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She sat upright immediately; scanning the darkness on the other side of the window for a minute, barely able to see from the light of the waning moon. Garden lights scattered about her lawn, which really only illuminated themselves and nothing more. Able to make out the tops of trees and vague outlines of bushes and garden gnome ornaments, with no more further movement outside, she picked up her book once more.

The garden was once her father’s pride and joy; fountains, ornaments and garden lights were scattered about the vast garden. He was known for his passion of gardening, always giving advice to others and taking night shifts at the Mill just to work daily in it. After he passed, her sister and mother tended to it when they had the chance, but the garden had overgrown into the forest around their house and overwhelmed them both. Lily put in a few hours here and there during the summer, but the garden surrounded the circumference of the house, making it impossible for her to tend to every plant.

There could be an animal in the garden. Birds were constantly in the garden because of the bird feeders around Lily’s house. Lily had had quite a few frights from badgers loudly burrowing under the house. Also, deer were constantly trying to navigate from either side of the woods by cutting through the garden. She knew there were skunks, on more than one occasion members of the Evans household had been bettered by them. Or maybe it wasn’t an animal at all, the wind had been vicious earlier that day; blowing up Lily’s skirt more than once as she walked to and from work. 

Even though Lily was looking down at her book, she was not focused on the words. If it was an animal she would surely see it move again, as her reaction would not affect it’s path and if it was the wind, she would’ve heard it once more. 

She couldn’t help but be paranoid recently; at the end of term feast at Hogwarts, the Headmaster had forewarned them to be aware of their surroundings during these dark times. To take precaution even if it didn’t feel necessary and to stay resilient against evil. The advice given were words Lily didn’t take with a light heart; more and more muggleborn witches and wizards were being ostracized or attacked, acts promoted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. His regime was strengthening and wreaking havoc almost daily, she herself was certain she had lost her former best friend, Severus, to Death Eater ranks.

What put her over the edge was when she received a personal letter from the Headmaster. Over a week ago, when Lily was visiting her friend Dorcas in London, the pair had gone to Diagon Alley for their school shopping. Initially, the trip was light-hearted fun; it was wonderful being immersed within the Wizarding World again. The trip quickly soured when Lily and Dorcas had turned down a side street that they saw the smoldering ruins of a building. A reporter was there asking opinions on the arson and attacks on the muggleborn shop owners who had rented the building. 

Incensed, Lily couldn’t resist giving her two cents. In hindsight, it was idiotic. At the time, it made perfect sense to defend her blood status. It wasn’t as if her last name would be published, “Only your first”, the reporter guaranteed after Lily inquired, “Wouldn’t want to get ya killed!” The female reporter had laughed, patting her shoulder. 

The reporter didn’t mention she would include that Lily went to Hogwarts. Uneasy after reading the article, she tried reassure herself with the knowledge that Lyle, who was almost certainly Head Boy, had spoken to the reporter as well that day. Although, there was one other Lyle at Hogwarts and no other Lily’s. Lily spent an inordinate amount of time wondering if Lyle Courte was muggleborn like Lyle Atkins. Eventually she came to the conclusion that she didn’t care, because she was proud of what she said and would stand by it if push came to shove.

Then she had received a letter from Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts. 

‘Undoubtedly brave and defiant, Miss Evans, but I now must recommend you to be on guard from those who do not share your strong opinions.’ Read a line from the letter. Lily heeded his advice once more; she did not respond to the reporter’s follow up owl to her when the article caused a sensation and she kept her wand with her when she was in the village. 

Her bookstore job had given her constant anxiety, she always seemed to jump at the bell when a customer arrived and couldn’t stop from giving them a look over more than once. Lily loved her job too much to quit, and would feel guilty if she did. The owner, an old man who lived above the shop, hired her the summer Lily was twelve, beginning with her shelving books and calling him from the storeroom if a customer needed ringing up. As the summers past it was soon understood that whenever Lily was home, she would run shop.

Even though Lily loved the shop, she had only really felt safe in her own home, a small house on the edge of the village of Cokeworth.

A shadow had intruded upon a garden light a split second. Long enough for Lily to snap out of her reverie and conclude there was definitely someone outside in the garden. She didn’t move her head from her book but searched the surrounding area for her wand. Her wand, where was her wand she panicked momentarily at the thought of her wand, her safety net and weapon, missing from view.

Then she remembered: her wand was upstairs, thrown carelessly on her desk, alongside her discarded work clothes. Lily chastised herself when another shadow once more brushed into a garden light, much closer than before. 

She had to get her wand. She had to go upstairs.

Slowly, carefully, Lily stood from her previous sitting position, she stretched and feigned a yawn, allowing herself to look once more into the night. Nothing more than what she had seen before, she dropped her book onto her previous seat.

It was a short walk to her room from the window nook. Though uneasy with turning her back to the window, she moved toward the staircase which encroached upon the living room. Passing the front door that sat across from the stairs, she paused ever so slightly to look into the kitchen that sat in the middle of the two. The windows that stayed continuously open in the summer were half heartedly closed yet remained unlocked. The front door was unlocked as well, Lily’s mother always deeming the act of locking the door unnecessary because their town was safe. Which was true, the last reported crime in the village of Cokeworth was an ‘offensive’ store window display reported by old lady O’Malley. Mrs. O’Malley believed the clothing store mannequins were dressed too provocatively for public display. The mannequins, however, were dressed in scuba gear and the complaint was dismissed.

Once Lily reached the top of the stairs, she silently crept into her mother’s room that overlooked the garden. She stood there, her nose pressed against the window, straining her eyes to look, to see if—her heart dropped into her stomach, there was one, no two, people in robes in the garden. The moon had cast enough light for her to see from this angle and fear surged through her when she saw the glint of a mask. Her mind raced to the picture in the Daily Prophet of Death Eaters, with their steel skull masks. Death Eaters. Panic flooded her entire body, her heart racing she turned to her mother’s sleeping form. 

“Mum” She whispered, standing over her. “Mum, mum, mum” Lily continued, shaking her awake, her voice flirting on the edge of frantic.

“What Lily?” Briony Evans mumbled, still half asleep, turning out of her daughter’s grasp on her shoulders only to see that the clock read 3:09. “Lily it’s three in the morning, what is—?” She asked as Lily pulled her up from by her arm

“Get to Petunia’s room and hide” Lily said, startling herself with the clarity of her voice, “Now mummy, now.” She finished exasperatedly, continuing to pull her mother up.

“Lily—“ Briony began, only to be cut off by her daughter once more.

“There are people in the garden, I don’t know who, but they’re wearing robes… I think. Get into Petunia’s room, come on.” Lily whispered frantically, rushing her words as if they would propel her mother out of the room. 

Briony was now fully awake and moving to the door with Lily. “Are you sure?” Briony asked, glancing behind Lily who was pushing her into the dark hallway.

“Quite sure, I was downstairs and I saw… I need my wand but then I’ll come into Tuney’s room as well. Go, be careful.” Lily whispered, her eyes looking down the stairs. She pushed her mother towards Petunia’s room, and quietly crossed the short distance to her lit room. Stopping outside the brightness of her room as she waited for her mother close the door to her sister’s. 

When she heard their hushed voices, muffled by the closed door, Lily released a shaky breath. She regretted leaving her lights on even more so than leaving her wand on her desk. Lily would be seen by whoever was watching; turning off the light would draw as much attention as her heading to her desk. Surely, they would not be pleased with her decision to make way upstairs. 

Two windows shone into her room, one across the door and one over her desk facing the part of the garden that the intruders were in. With adrenaline pushing her forward, she ran into her room. Almost simultaneously as she grasped her wand, the window in front of her shattered. Lily felt the glass impact upon her, shards slicing into her skin. She ducked; using her desk as cover and bracing herself for a further attack. But none came. She could her her mother and sister screaming and Lily ran out of her bedroom, ducking still and covering her head, bracing herself once again. 

“Mum! Mummy!” Lily whispered as she ran into her sister’s room, turning quickly searching the dark room. Her eyes landing on the closet as it opened revealing her sister’s pale face and her mother’s worried look. 

“Why’d you scream?” said Lily, looking around the empty room. “Window” Her mother simply stated, pointing to the window but dumbfounded and staring at her daughter’s blood soaked face. The window in Petunia’s room was shattered as well; a scare tactic to bring them downstairs, Lily was sure. 

“Just don’t do it again, no matter what!” Lily hushed her voice again, moving to the door. She thought she could hear footsteps. She looked back at her sister and mother once more to motion them to close the closet and she silently closed the door behind her. “Colloportus” Lily whispered, sealing the door shut. 

Pressing herself against the wall and using the bannister for balance she crouched down and surveyed the living room in which the staircase entered upon. In her haste to get upstairs she had left a light on, so she was able to see the reflection of the million little shards of glass on the ground. But it was silent, no movement nor sound from the downstairs. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide her heavy breathing and prepared herself to creep down the stairs. The staircase had few steps and although there was a landing midway, it would be a difficult task to get down the creaky steps unnoticed. 

Still in her crouched position, she stretched her foot to the step below and moved herself down. She strained to see more of the living room without revealing her presence as she slowly continued her journey to the ground floor. Although there was no persons in her vision, there was blindspot in the living room due to the position of the stairs. She also had to worry about the the kitchen, the entry way was to her immediate left. There was a presence other than her family in the house, but it had remained still.

Once Lily had reached the landing, she froze as the light downstairs revealed her. She was not frozen in fear but shocked by the blood on herself. Stains of blood on her arms and trails that had spilled down her pajamas. She was suddenly aware of the blood trickling down her face and neck. Fear surged through Lily’s veins once more, beckoning her back upstairs. 

But now was the moment for her to decide where to move once she reached the bottom of the staircase, the living room or into the kitchen? If Lily saw movement outside of the window she was sitting under, whoever had almost certainly entered that way. Kitchen it is, she thought to herself as she continued to slink down the stairs. Lily had reached the ground floor and popped up from her previous stance to run into the kitchen when she felt the full force of a spell rip towards her. Ducking, she spun into the kitchen, cringing at the sound of a blast as it hit the doorframe. 

“Lily Evans; red hair, green eyes, 15. Mudblood scum attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A Gryffindor bitch, prefect…full O.W.Ls…. impressive Lily…quite impressive…” A male voice from the other room rang out loud and evenly. Lily’s panic and fear peaked even higher heights, she blindly moved around the table further into the kitchen and farther from the living room.

“Mother, Briony; red hair, gray eyes, 43. Owns a stationary shop in the village of Cokeworth… sister, Petunia; blonde hair, gray eyes, 17. Final year of secondary school. Father, Clarke…oh pity, he’s dead…died in a accident at a Mill two years ago…good news for us, one less to get at!” The man finished, laughing along with another man, he sounded closer to the kitchen and with that realization, Lily backed into the dining room, her eyes locked on the kitchen entry until it was out of view.

Lily tried to keep her mind from racing and to think clearly, to think of a plan that would save her and her family’s life.

“Lily Evans, I know you’re in there…” The voice sung to her and a knocking sound on the doorframe of the kitchen. 

“Lily, Lily, Lily…hiding from me?” He finished with a roar and a crash of the kitchen table being flipped over. Lily was now in the corner of the dining room, her hand around the doorknob of a sliding connection door that led into the living room. Her hesitation only because she couldn’t tell if the accompanied man had moved into the kitchen as well.

“Hurry up in there! Once the Dark Mark is spotted, this lot will being crawling with Ministry goons.” A third voice said, clearly from the outside of the house. Lily looked briefly out the window and saw a green hue above her house. She shut her eyes and covered her mouth with her hands as though to stop herself from sobbing. I’m going to die tonight, she thought.

“You shouldn’t have casted it until they were dead! This is exactly what happened at the last house…” The man in the kitchen said, his voice further and his tread moved towards the living room. 

“…Barely escaped before the idiots showed up..” 

Lily couldn’t make out more of the conversation, the men must have been standing next to each other speaking. The Dark Mark had been cast and she was mere feet from Death Eaters, death itself looming in her presence, only a spell away. 

“‘Heritage and magic are not one and the same. Just because I’m muggleborn doesn’t mean the magic that runs through my veins is any less that a pureblood’s.” Lily cringed as the man read her quote her, in a loud, mocking voice. Dumbledore’s letter should have been warning enough that this day was coming.

Dumbledore’s letter. 

‘Undoubtedly brave and defiant, Miss Evans, but I now must recommend you to be on guard from those who do not share your strong opinions.’ 

Brave and defiant. She was brave and defiant. Lily slowly began to slide the door to the living room open, preparing to meet her attackers. 

“Bet you regret your words now, don’t you, dirty mudblood bitch?” said the man, hatred soaking through his words and filling Lily with rage. 

She would never regret the truth, even the in the face of death. 

If Lily was going to die, her murderer must prepare to fight for their own life. If someone would have the audacity to try to claim hers, she had every right to try and take theirs. To whom it may concern, Lily Evans was no sitting duck or easy target, and she may, quite really, most definitely, be completely and royally screwed— but if she was going down, she wasn’t going down alone or easily.

She opened the sliding door so forcefully it hit the wall with a resounding slam. “Stupefy!” she shouted at a lone, masked man standing in her living room, red light hitting him in the head and dropping him to the floor. 

Two other masked men rounded upon her seconds later; two versus one was never fair and Lily, although quick, could only do so much as relentless spells were thrown at her. Moving backwards she continued to repel and cast but when a pause allowed her to, she moved behind the staircase. Hearing the footsteps and curses of the men in masks she moved forward, surprising the men and allowing her to disarm and body bind the man at the front of her attack.

Then she ran. 

Through the dining room and into the kitchen, dodging the kitchen table, her socks slipped on glass and she fell to the ground. She recovered milliseconds later, not really being able to feel the glass that had pierced her skin at that moment, and ran into the living room once more. Lily could hear the last attacker following her, which she needed. She needed him to follow her, away from her family. She threw open the front door and bounded down the steps, running into the brush of her father’s overgrown garden, through the twinkling garden lights.

“I’m not here to play cat and mouse!” the masked man shouted after Lily, his rage echoing into the night sky. 

Lily formulated a plan as she ran through the garden, dodging garden decorations. There was a short distance until she reached the woods, then she could dodge behind a tree, maybe, just maybe it would it would give her the upperhand. 

Quite suddenly, the heat of a thousand stabbing knives surged through her body, causing her to collapse to the ground in agony. 

“Cruciatus hurts doesn’t it?” the man said, his voice barely distinguishable as Lily tried to recover from the most intense pain she had ever felt. “Maybe another for good measure, eh?”

Minutes or hours later, Lily was unsure, but soon she was face to face with the masked man once again. Pain radiating through every joint in her body, which was aching so terribly. She was overcome with weakness; an exhaustion she had never known to exist. The Death Eater held Lily’s head back, his hands pulling on her hair into his fist, forcing her to look into the soulless eyes of his steel mask.

“I really hate staining my robes with dirty blood, but, fuck, I love watching life leave eyes. Especially in a pretty little bitch.” Said the Death Eater in a gruff voice as he raised his wand to her neck.

It was as if a hot knife began to gouge at the side of her throat, a searing pain that made Lily wish for the killing curse. She felt her mouth fill with blood and she spluttered, choking on it while trying to gasp for air. The man held her hair tighter in his fist. 

It wasn’t fair, she thought, she was good, it wasn’t fair. 

She forced her eyes open, staring at the dark mark that floated above her house. It was harder for her to breathe and she found herself gasping for air as the pain in her throat grew unbearable. Lily couldn’t look at the Death Eater’s mask nor at her house and so she closed her eyes. Waiting for her agony to subside or praying for death to come quickly, she didn’t know but she couldn’t help but cry. 

As the tears slid down her face, the masked man laughed. He was laughing at her pain, he enjoyed murdering for sport and it made Lily feel sorry for him. Not only did she feel sorrow, but she felt fury. A fury she never had felt before or knew was possible. Fury that he thought he could take her life. Fury at herself for letting him think that. 

Listening to his laugh reverberate through her, she knew death was not her destiny; not tonight at least. 

Her knee made contact with his groin half a second later. Doubled over by the unexpected assault, the man doubled over in pain. Lily stumbled to her feet, her hand covering her bleeding throat as she looked for her wand. Unable to find it, and with only seconds before he relaunched his attack, Lily picked up the closet object she could find and slammed it on his head. 

The ceramic pieces of the garden gnome fell to the ground with the unconscious Death Eater. Lily fell to her knees as well, searching for a wand. Sifting the garden ground, she found her wand, tangled in the grass. 

“Episky” gargled Lily as she pointed her wand to her throat, feeling it heal within seconds. Relief soared through her; it hurt to breathe and it hurt to move but it felt good to be alive.

She couldn’t remember walking back into the house, or walking upstairs but the next thing Lily knew, she was in Petunia’s bedroom and in her mother’s arms.

(You used to say live and let live) 

Three muggleborn’s and their families were attacked during the night and when Frank responded to the second house that had the Dark Mark above it, he wanted to cry. A family killed sleeping in their beds, the lot of them, including his former classmate Lyle Atkins. Atkins was a 5th year Hufflepuff prefect when Frank was Head Boy. Judging from the badge on his nightstand, Lyle himself became Head Boy too.

Within hours it was obvious there was a planned attack that night, apparently every other scene was just has gruesome as Frank’s. 

“A journalist, a Hufflepuff prefect, a witch living in Diagon Alley…it makes no sense…” Crispin Rejic, a senior Auror stated, rubbbing his forehead in frustration after getting the news of the third attack. They were outside of the second house, Frank leaning against the side while waiting for the Investigation officers to move through the scene. 

“It never makes sense, Rejic. Poor Atkins, I figured he would be Head Boy.” said junior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, in his deep voice. Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of the newest recruits, only graduating from Hogwarts the year prior but his talent and perseverance allowed him to quickly grow in ranks. Shacklebolt arrived with the news of the witch in Diagon Alley. Her name currently unknown, she lived in a two room flat over the shops. She was found in her tiny kitchen slumped against a cabinet. She had quick death compared to her children.

“The way this family was killed… it was reminiscent of the Turnblade House deaths and the Seabert murder. It’s making me think that Goyle—Garrison Goyle is back in England.” said Frank. He had been tracking Goyle since his early days as an Auror. Goyle had the tendency to flee the country every few months; he wasn’t as brave as his fellow Death Eaters against the Ministry. Frank had almost caught him a few times as well, for some reason the idiot cast a Dark Mark before he killed.

“Lucky you, Frank. Nothing aligned on my cases, other than a Dark Mark over their houses and quick death.” said Crispin, pacing in front of Frank, stopping momentarily to see if Investigations had completed their walk through. 

“Quick Death? Crispin, Nadine Parker was slaughtered!” Frank stated in disbelief, annoyed at the senior Auror’s comment. The journalist, Nadine Parker, was quite famous for her articles of defiance against You-Know-Who. It had driven her into hiding, rather, half hearted hiding for she was still writing and had been seen in public often. According to an Investigations officer who had stopped photographing the bodies to talk to Frank and Crispin her death was “horrific, I’ve seen things in my career but this…it was as if killing her wasn’t enough, they had to rip her and her kin to pieces.” 

A small, faint popping noise intruded upon the group, signaling the arrival of a person. Shacklebolt had immediately turned, “If it’s a reporter again, I swear…” he began. 

Frank snorted in agreement at his unfinished statement. A half hour earlier he had to chase away a reporter who had been tipped off of the events. “No shame, no respect, not even for one of their own.” said Frank, standing upright from his leaning position. Frank heard a noise on the other side of the house. Not alone hearing this apparently, all men readied their wands in preparation for the unknown person, only for them to put them down a moment later as junior Auror Polka Jones revealed herself at the edge of the home.

“Sorry, sorry! I accidentally apparated to the wrong side!” Polka said breathlessly, waving her hands at the men as she ran towards them. “Alice—sorry, Auror Harding, figured it out! The journalist, Parker? Parker! Wrote an article about muggleborn attacks and Lyle Atkins and what we assume is the unknown witch, were quoted! But—“ She said stopped, placing a hand over her heart as if that would calm her heartbeat, “but, there’s one more person quoted in the article, it’s unknown if she was attacked, I’m not sure…Al-Auror Harding told me to report her theory…so here I am…” Polka finished lamely, earning an eyeroll from the group.

Every time Frank encountered Polka he wondered how the idiot managed to pass her Auror qualifications. Family Connections, Frank had always summarized as did the whispers in the department over her inept skills. The Joneses were a well-to-do wizarding family, infamous in wizarding and inadvertently the muggle world. The saying ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ had caught on with the muggles in recent years.

“So…a woman is the last to be attacked?” prompted Crispin. 

“Hmm…woman?” Polka said looking out into the distance, her attention lost during the brief silence between the group of Aurors. “Oh…right! Right…” She started patting herself down, a few seconds passed before she pulled out a folded piece of paper. “She had only given her initials but, Auror Harding thinks it’s Lily Evans, a muggleborn witch of Hogwarts…apparently Alice knew her..” She ended once more on an uneven note.

Frank wasn’t listening. Lily Evans, little Lily Evans from Gryffindor could be dead. Frank had an odd relationship with Lily; he had never cared to know her before his final year, although sharing a common room let him know of her and had given him the ability to recognize her loud laugh. Only when he was Head Boy and he was asked by Dumbledore to keep an eye on her, did he strike up a genuine friendship with her.

At first, he found her to be exasperating; she laughed too easily and he had to say her name a few times before she would look up from her book. Soon enough he found himself enjoying Lily’s presence, more often then not stopping to chat with her in the corridors and in the common room. Although Frank wasn’t informed by Dumbledore on why he should befriend the little fourth year, he soon realized himself when he noticed her close relationship with Severus Snape of Slytherin. They were an odd pair, Lily, who was warm and charismatic was friends with Severus, who was quiet and sullen looking. When Frank asked her about it one day, she immediately became defensive and simply said, “We’re friends from home”. Frank accepted her explanation without questioning, but he remained suspicious of Severus, who he had more than once caught in a group of known supporters of You-Know-Who. 

“Mind if I go? I knew her from school.” Frank said, failing to keep his voice impassive of the situation. 

“No, you have to remain at your scene. I’m not assigned, I’ll go.” Kingsley said after a pause, nodding to Crispin and Frank before leaving with Polka, who was following close behind. Kingsley had to have known Frank’s friendship with Lily, which is why he volunteered to go instead. Kingsley had known Lily in school as well, but Frank was unsure if they were friends or not. If only Frank wasn’t assigned to a scene he could’ve gone to see, well, to see if Lily was alive or not. Unease tore through Frank, little Lily Evans couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t.

It was well agreed upon that the worst part of being an Auror was the responsibility of the crime scene. Hit Wizards were able to come and go after securing the area or culprits, but when the Auror arrived to a crime scene it was his crime scene. After a walk through, Investigations were brought in to collect evidence and take photographs. Then when their job was complete, the Remediation team arrived to begin clean up and they were accompanied by the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, who kept watch before clearing the scene thus allowing the Auror to leave. Much to every Auror’s dismay, the Patrolmen were vindictive over their position and tended to take advantage, and their sweet time, when relieving an Auror from a crime scene. 

It was mid-morning when Frank was able to leave for Lily Evan’s house, the Patrolman who arrived to take his place was unknowledgeable of any new information. When Frank arrived at his destination, he landed in a bush. As he fought free, he saw that the tiny house was in the middle of a massive garden. Stumbling to find a path he began a short journey up to the house, he was wrought with anxiety. As he got closer to the house he saw a red horizontal circle near the woods, which was known as a marker for a fallen body. Frank braced himself for the worst as he entered the Evans’ house. 

Only to see Lily Evans alive, sitting in a chair and talking animatedly to Auror Alice Harding. Ignoring his fellow Aurors, Frank headed towards Lily, gaining her attention by his quick and heavy steps. She jumped up to hug him and as they embraced, Frank was sure he had never been so happy to see someone alive. Little Lily Evans would live to see another day, and Frank was ecstatic. 

Recounting the story she had already told four times over, she recited the events to Frank. She was lucky she was reading, she was lucky of the odd layout of her house and she was lucky her final attacker susceptible to garden gnome decorations. Frank was further elated when he heard the news of three notorious Death Eaters captured, including Garrison Goyle.

Lucky little Lily Evans he couldn’t help but think. 

His happiness faltered when he had learned a reporter from the Daily Prophet had come and gone. Instead of securing the perimeter, Polka had moved closer listen to Lily’s harrowing ordeal, inadvertently allowing a reporter to as well. It was only when Lily agreed to go to St. Mungo’s to get heal her cuts, have her throat scene by a professional and fix her rib had the reporter revealed himself. Unable to resist a photograph of the teenager who took down three Death Eaters, the reporter ran in to snap a photo. Kingsley and Alice reacted immediately hitting the reporter with a stunning spell at the same time the reporter had disapparated. Kingsley had followed and by using the threat of Azkaban for intruding upon an open investigation he had names and locations withheld but try as he might he could not prevent the photo from being published. “I only got the side of her face! She’s so bloody mate, no one would recognize her!” argued the reporter, “We have to publish this, she’ll be the face of resilience against the dark side!”

When Frank saw the photo he had to agree; if one didn’t know Lily Evans, she was unrecognizable. The reporter had captured her in mid-movement, her pursed lips and hard expression visible from the side profile before a split second look at the camera before turning again. Cuts covered her face and body, lines of blood dried or smeared into her skin. The blood that cascaded from her throat and onto her shirt made him a bit queasy though.

The black and white photograph not only hid her distinguishing features but made the photo itself more dramatic. Frank had no doubt that the photo would go down in history. He also had no doubt that her name would be attached to that photo the next time it was published.

After the Remediations team moved through the house, senior Auror Harding reviewed the precautions and security which would now be in place for the Evans family. Ministry protection was guaranteed to those who had survived attack; unbreakable charms and defenses that were impossible to infiltrate to those outside of Ministry. If one tried to, a Hit Wizard would arrive within seconds. Although it was recommended for the family to keep a low profile, a Patrolmen would be sent to accompany excursions past the Evans property. 

Frank and Lily moved outside, her talking animatedly and laughing, apparently forgetting that hours before her life was at threat. They had been talking for quite a bit when at the end of the dirt path leading to her house, a pale boy with dark hair had appeared. The boy hesitated before continuing forward, a paper clutched in his hand. “That must be the paper…I wonder… we had a falling out this past year, a few months ago. We’re not friends anymore…we’re too…too different…” Lily murmured, her eyes fixed on the lone figure as it moved towards them. 

“I’ll be right back.” said Lily, moving down the steps. 

 

(But if this everchanging world in which we live in)

 

A sigh of relief had gone through her body when Euphemia saw the boys walking in the distance towards the house. Much to her annoyance, days prior, her son and his friends decided to embark on a camping trip. 

“Camping, mum, is not just muggle nonsense!” laughed James as he threw a round object at Sirius’ head, only for it to miss him and hit the wall, unrolling itself to reveal a sleeping bag.

“Yeah Mrs. P, it’s a chance, nay, an opportunity! An opportunity to find oneself amongst nature!” said Sirius in a robust voice, as he backed up to grab the sleeping bag. Peter snorted in laughter while James bit his lip, smiling at his mother. 

“Oh no, I know you boys! Camping is synonymous with drinking, drugs and mucking about. I don’t approve, not in the least!” said Euphemia, wagging her finger at her son and his friends.

“Mum…” James looked thoughtful for a moment, “didn’t you and dad camp for most of your honeymoon?” James finished immediately ducking out of his mother’s reach as she swatted at him. 

“Different times, James. I read the paper, I listen to the radio, I know how young men act.” Euphemia’s words elicited a cringing response from the boys, James muttering “Gross”. 

“Honestly! I didn’t mean it like that…though in my day I was quite a catch.” said Euphemia, raising her eyebrows at the three boys.

“Still are, Mrs. P!” Sirius responded, smiling at her and winking before throwing the rerolled sleeping bag at the back of James’ head, knocking off his glasses. Peter and Sirius snickered at James as he kneeled down to blindly looked for his glasses on the ground. 

“Colder!” laughed Peter as James’ searching hands moved in the wrong direction of his glasses. Sighing, Euphemia picked up her son’s glasses for him. 

“Be careful. If anything goes wrong, try not to die.” She said as he placed the glasses back on his face. 

“Mum, we’re wizards,” said James to his mother, placing an arm around her shoulder, “If anything goes wrong we have our wands.” 

“Or we’ll just apparate!” added Peter, eating toast from the couch, his feet up on the table in front of him, his rucksack packed and ready on the cushion next to him.

“Apparate, Wormtail?” Sirius questioned from the ground, eating toast as well, apparently given up on packing as items were scattered around his empty bag. “Since when could you apparate?” 

“Can’t. I reckon the worst that could happen is splinching and I’ve always wanted a scar, so really, it’s a win both ways.” Peter stated, producing laughter from both Sirius and James and a groan from Euphemia. 

“Ah, we now have our goal for the outcome of the trip! We have to go now mum, we have to fulfill Pete’s dream!” James said leaning over the table to high five Peter. 

Twenty minutes later the boys had left, and Euphemia was watching them from the back door as they got smaller in the distance. The figure in the middle turned around and yelled, “Stop worrying mum! Love you!” her son’s voice echoing from the distance. She waved and he waved back, but she couldn’t help but be tearful. It was a scene she had experienced many times over with her husband, he himself was on an expedition. 

Euphemia had no intention of marriage or children much to her mother’s contempt. She had always cherished independence and singularity, both of which, Euphemia believed, would lead her to a happy and trouble free life. Luckily, her brother married immediately out of school and had children soon thereafter, so Euphemia had no guilt in not continuing the bloodline. Avoidance and excuses led Euphemia to be the only single pureblood girl at the ripe age of 25. “An embarrassment to the family!” Her mother wept when the topic of Euphemia’s marital status was discussed. Her father, however, adored his daughter’s stubborn streak and supported her in every endeavor. After she became a professional Quidditch player, he became a staple at matches for his perfect attendance and colorful insults against the visiting teams. 

At a party celebrating the birthday of Newt Scamander, the popular author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Euphemia’s life became troublesome.

“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” Euphemia’s friend Abigail said, pointing towards a blonde haired bloke. Euphemia grimaced in response. Euphemia couldn’t understand why she agreed to be at social events with Abigail, who was always intent on matchmaking. “Or him? Oh my!” laughed Abigail, pointing once more in another direction. Rolling her eyes, Euphemia turned to view the man her friend pointed at, and in that moment, Euphemia knew her life would never be the same. 

He was exquisite. Sleek black hair and tan features, he wasn’t dressed like the others, wearing high brown boots and a vest rather than dress robes. A large imprint of, what Euphemia could only assume, a tentacle mark was wrapped around the length of his forearm. He looked older, crinkles by his eyes from laughter and age. He was laughing now in fact, for the same reason Abigail laughed at him as well. It seemed he had spilled his drink on his shirt and rather than clean up with his wand, he was using his mouth instead. What an exquisite idiot, she had thought, unable to take her eyes off of him. When his eyes met hers, she felt a swoop in her stomach and suddenly couldn’t remember the importance of singularity anymore. 

Euphemia married the exquisite idiot within the same week they had met. His name was Fleamont Potter and he was an adventurer; a magizoologist that was helping write the next edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He took her traveling with him, Fleamont had already travelled the world twice over but went once more just to show Euphemia, only coming back to England during Quidditch seasons. 

Already well off, luck struck for the couple when Fleamont branded and sold the hair potion he had created for his perpetually disarrayed hair. Originally lost in a bet; Fleamont’s hair potion gained a small but popular following. Only when counterfeit products cropped up, Fleamont felt the need to produce it so no more would lose their hair from counterfeits. Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion became the fastest selling hair product in the wizarding world. Bought for the cause of good-looking, tame hair, consumers were initially confused by the product; the models on the bottles were magical beasts with majestic manes. 

Their combined popularity and fame drove Fleamont and Euphemia out of the country for longer periods and after many years abroad they finally settled in the countryside of Western England. Their house was a large, country estate where they had too many animals, magical and nonmagical, roaming on their grounds. Euphemia had never felt the wanton need for children and Fleamont tended to agree, so their lives continued to center around each other.

One day, in her late forties, a few years into retirement, she had stood laughing at Fleamont as he chased chickens out of the house. It was then she realized that it would be a crime against humanity if all of his stupid, perfect qualities weren’t passed on. Soon thereafter and against all odds, James Fleamont Potter was born into the world. James took after her exquisite idiot, black hair and tan features, an exact replica of his father. Although James had Euphemia’s brown eyes accompanied by her hereditary bad vision, which Fleamont and Euphemia found out when he learned to walk and beelined for the wall. 

James had become Euphemia and Fleamont’s exquisite little idiot. Euphemia taught him how to fly and how to play Quidditch. Fleamont taught him how to swim, climb and how to correctly chokehold a giant squid. They both took James traveling with them, spending summers abroad to show their son the wonders of the world. James had become infamous amongst Fleamont’s peers for coming up with ridiculous names for beasts and their subspecies, the Haritorpoyarsariowiggletonbumshun was the all around favorite. The house was littered with pictures of tiny James standing next to a massive beast or tiny James racing around on a broom. 

James had become a focal point for their lives, so involved that it was only when Fleamont had fallen ill with Dragon Pox, had Euphemia realized their old age. It wasn’t the first time he had contracted rare disease or had to be hospitalized; Euphemia was on christmas card status with many Healers who had taken care of Fleamont throughout the years. It was, though, the first time Fleamont hadn’t healed right away and because of his weakened immune system, he had quickly fallen ill again. 

Fleamont was currently in South America, not allowing his ailing health prevent him from a magizoologist conference. Every time Euphemia watched him leave, she was convinced it would be the last time she saw him; every time he turned and waved, she was convinced it was their last interaction. Her exquisite idiots had ruined her once cherished independence and singularity, but that was alright for they brought a happiness to Euphemia she never knew was possible. 

(Makes you give in and cry) 

“You wanted a scar Wormy, I got you a scar!” Sirius said shoving into Peter as they walked down the hill towards James’ house. 

“I know, I just…” Peter stopped to shove back into Sirius, “Wish it wasn’t from being pushed in a ditch!” He huffed, causing James and Sirius to laugh at his annoyance.

James was excited to be coming home, even though he was only gone for four days. Camping, in his mind, was muggle nonsense. There was no point in camping without the help of magic to set up camp and being underage, it had taken the boys hours to set up tent. It was miserable but a great excuse to disappear for a few days over the full moon, a time when the fourth and final member of the Marauders gang, Remus, transformed into a werewolf. 

James had learned to spot werewolves during his childhood travels. At age 7, when his family was traveling through Eastern Europe, James and his father invented ‘Vampire or Werewolf?’, an innocent game that grew more and more offensive with age around any shady character. 

After befriending Remus, James immediately recognized his conditioned and was affirmed by his monthly disappearances. As the boys grew closer, James couldn’t help but share his knowledge during their second year. Even after reassurances that being a werewolf didn’t ruin their friendship, Remus was still apprehensive until James, Sirius and Peter began the long process of becoming animagi. 

After disappearing from his mother’s line of vision four days ago and one day before the full moon; James, Sirius and Peter boarded the Knight Bus to Hogsmeade. That night after setting up camp behind the Shrieking Shack, they had gone to the Three Broomsticks. Sirius kicked open the door of the pub, dramatically declaring, “Rosmerta my love, I have returned!” 

The following day they hung about inside the Shrieking Shack, waiting for Remus who was happily surprised to his friends. Even in the summer, Remus returned monthly to transform in the Shrieking Shack and heal in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. James hated the circumstance in which he became an animagus, but he relished in his Stag animal form. It was the ultimate sense of freedom and in his mind, the greatest act of rebellion against nature, being able to transform into an animal at will. The full moon went without hitch and later that night Remus returned to join them camping which allowed the Marauders, to be together once again. It was so much fun being around each other, they stayed another day even though camping itself was a bit miserable. 

James could see his mother waiting for them at the back door and he felt a twinge of happiness to see her. Him and his mother, Euphemia, were exceptionally close, he didn’t think he had gone one day in his childhood without seeing her. Euphemia was his first teacher, first flying instructor, friend and playmate. His mother couldn’t fly often anymore, her hands hurt after flying, writing letters or playing chess and she went to sleep earlier and earlier. It worried him; he was as worried for her and her health as much as he was for his constantly sick and ever aging father. Although his parents forgot their age most days, he always reminded himself that as he got older, so did they. 

“How was it?” His mother asked when they were feet away. She looked frail, cold and tired, almost as if she hadn’t moved since the boys had left on their trip. 

“Is it possible for something so unmagical to be described as magical?” responded James, bounding up the steps to the back door and kissing her on the cheek. He dropped his bag on the kitchen floor and picked up a sandwich from the table. 

“Magical for you as well Peter? Did you accomplish your goal?” Euphemia asked as Peter followed. He dropped his bag and pulled up his sleeve to show her the deep cut on his shoulder, happy to show off the gash.

“Oh no, you’re mother will have a fit when she sees that…let me fix it, hold on! No—come back!” Euphemia called after Peter as he ran indoors with his hand covering his shoulder.

“Boys.” Sirius said simply, smiling at Euphemia and gesturing for her to go inside before him.

The boys recounted the trip for Euphemia, beginning with a dramatic retelling of Peter ‘falling’ in a ditch, then of Sirius versus the tent and how the tent won and finally, of how James thought a raccoon was stalking them.

“It was mum! You should’ve seen the look in it’s eyes, he was hunting to kill!” James exclaimed as his mother practically falling out of her chair from laughing so hard. James had forced his mother to remain seated while him and his friends cleaned up the kitchen for her. 

“I’m so happy you’re back, all of you,” She said, as she settled down from her laughing fit. “I needed comedic relief, especially after I realized you boys had been camping under a full moon.” She said raising her eyebrow, making James wonder if she knew of Remus’s condition, a secret he had never informed her of.

“Really and why’s that?” asked Sirius, from on top of a counter where he sat drying dishes.

“Oh right, you don’t know! The day after the full moon, there was an attack…” Euphemia said, immediately the dynamic of the room shifted and the boys stopped cleaning, pausing to listen.

“It was terrible, ugh thinking about it now, I just—“ She fanned her face, her eyes welling up with tears again. She stopped to compose herself.

“Eleven dead and three survivors. The youngest murdered was only a toddler!” She finally said, her voice laced with tears she couldn’t stop from flowing.

James’ head reeled. How horrific, terrible and thoughtless. Deaths were becoming more frequent and worse, published daily in the paper as if it were sport. He looked at his friends, Peter had his covering his mouth with a vacant expression and Sirius met James’ eyes with a grimace. They were gone four days and had missed the shock of the Wizarding World.

“There were four houses attacked, every person killed except in the last house. The family of a muggleborn witch survived, it was a girl your age, only witch in her family and she got the better of them. The Prophet put up a picture of her, you should see her face, oh the blood, I’d of thought she was dead if she wasn’t blinking” said Euphemia, shivering at the memory of the photo.

Good for her, thought James, proud of the girl, whoever she was, for not going down without a fight. “Our age? Did it say who, does she go to Hogwarts?” James asked.

“I don’t know, they didn’t say. They paper thinks it was a revenge killing over the Nadine Parker article that had everyone in a tizzy.” His mother responded before getting up from the table and moved over to a messy table by the door that Euphemia threw everything on.

As she shifted through the papers, James thought of the article. He usually didn’t read the Daily Prophet, he got the highlights from his mum. One morning, maybe a week ago, she had asked if he knew anyone with the name Lily or Lyle, for they had given quotes for the article and it had been mentioned they attended Hogwarts. 

James remembered rush of emotion he had felt when he heard the name Lily and when his mother read Lily’s quote, he had known immediately it was Lily Evans, the girl he had been in love with for the past two years. 

It was only a moment after, that he realized Lily had been attacked and could quite possibly be dead.

He pictured Lily’s pretty face for a second, before remembering their last interaction at school by the beech tree and his face flushed. James then saw her face covered in blood, except he wasn’t picturing it in his head, he was staring at it on paper.

Maybe it was because he had stared at Lily so often that James recognized her immediately, for it took Sirius and Peter a minute to realize the girl on the paper was her. Sirius had begun to read the article underneath, but James was staring so intently at Lily’s photo, his eyes lingering over her bloody face, that he only caught bits and pieces. 

“…unidentified teenage witch…”

“…alleged muggleborn attack…”

“…defended her family…”

“…successfully upperhanded three Death Eaters…”

“…a hero…”

The photograph of Lily briefly made eye contact with him for a moment before turning again. Of course it was Lily Evans who could survive that attack, thought James. Lily’s photo made eye contact with him once more and his stomach flipped. Only Lily Evans could. 

Fucking Lily Evans, man.

Lily fucking Evans.

(Say live and let die)


	2. Gimme Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For too long she lived under a bogus notion of safety, learning and camaraderie. Lily found the rest of Hogwarts to be under a false pretense and it made her sick. It was all Dumbledore’s fault. He kept the war under wraps, briefly warning them before setting them loose for the summer, loose into the war torn Wizarding World.

(Oh, a storm is threatening)

Remus stared into the light, pale yellow cast of the morning. September 1st, a day full of promise and excitement although Remus felt his stomach flip with anxiety at the thought of another school year. In a few minutes his alarm would ring out, goading him from his bed to start the day. He had packed a week before, visited Diagon Alley a week previous, and received his Prefect badge two weeks previous. September 1st, a day full of promise and excitement, a day that marked change. 

Remus pulled the covers over his head, his eyes encompassed with a pale shade of cream. He let his sheets fall around him, staring at minuscule wrinkles and pulled threads. Today was September 1st, he was excited but sad; he felt happy and a small hollow, emptiness. Remus closed his eyes, breathing raggedly from the mugginess of being under the covers. Suddenly, the piercing noise of his alarm rang through his room, causing him to jump. He blindly reached out for his alarm, swatting his hand left and right before pulling off him covers and turning the alarm clock off. He lied in bed for a minute more, thinking aimlessly, before sitting up and starting his day.

At 9:30, Remus vaguely registered his father calling him to breakfast. Remus was standing over his trunk, holding his Prefect badge. Today was September 1st, he was officially a Prefect once more. Last year, Remus was close to turning in his badge after his friends became Animagi. His guilt over their illegal actions spurned on by his werewolf status pushed him to stepping down from his position. Remus didn’t deserve to be a Prefect, not since the incident and thereafter.

He remembered how close he was to the Heads office when he ran into Lyle Atkins, who heard the rumor of Remus planning to step down, and hastened to prevent Remus from doing so. 

Lyle Atkins, who was now dead. 

Sadness that had sat in the pit of Remus soared through as it always did when he thought of Lyle. Remus first met Lyle when Lyle became an unsuspecting victim to a prank during Remus’ second year. Not happy with being covered in jam, but enjoying the idea of the prank; Lyle quickly dismissed Remus’ apologies as his friends roared with laughter behind him.  
“Bloody Marauders” said Lyle, clapping Remus on the shoulder with his sticky hand, before using the same hand to give a rude gesture to the rest of the group. 

Their relationship grew over the years; from friendly nods in the hallway to studying at the same table in the library. Remus once told Lyle he couldn’t take him seriously because Lyle shared his father’s name. Lyle quickly responded by recounting the Marauder’s recent prank and mentioning the he himself had not pranked since he was in primary school. 

“Are you seven, Remus?” asked Lyle.  
“Now you truly sound like my father.” quipped Remus, causing both to laugh.

One day in fourth year, Lyle sat down with Remus whilst Remus was helping his fellow Gryffindor, Winnie Gallo, with Arithmancy. Immediately taken with one another, Remus unwontedly and grumpily played matchmaker for the pair. In fifth year, when Remus entered the Prefect compartment on the Hogwarts Express, he was greeted with a loud whoop and a hug from Lyle. 

Now when Remus entered the Prefect compartment, he wouldn’t see Lyle Atkins as Head Boy. When he studied in the library he wouldn’t be distracted by Lyle’s insane Ancient Runes theories. He wouldn’t see Lyle being dragged into Madam Puddifoot’s by Winnie during Hogsmeade weekends. The last time he saw Lyle Atkins was at his funeral, his cold hands folded over his favorite Ancient Runes book, a weeping Winnie near his coffin. 

Remus Lupin was going back to Hogwarts and Lyle Atkins was asleep in his grave. 

Once the Hogwarts Express started it’s journey and he could no longer wave to his father, Remus began his path to the Prefect compartment. Dreading his imminent entrance, Remus paused at the threshold, his hand hovered over the compartment handle. 

“Remus! Remus Lupin!” 

Remus stumbled back at the shock of a body jumping onto him, stumbling back from the impact, he was overcome with the scent of jasmine perfume. His eyes covered by red, it only took him a beat to realize he was being hugged by Lily Evans. Returning the hug, he pulled back seconds later, unable to hide his smile.

“Excited for the school year, Lily?” laughed Remus, happy to be near the redheaded girl. 

“Excited to see you!” laughed Lily, before she turned serious, “But overall…torn. Absolutely torn between elation and depression, honestly.” said Lily, shrugging and not quite meeting Remus’ eyes as both pairs traveled to the Prefect compartment door. “This is going to be strange.” She finished, finally meeting Remus’ eyes. 

“Strange indeed.” agreed Remus, unable to keep from grimacing.

Returning home from his transformation, Remus was greeted with shocking news of a mass murder in the days he was gone. He only needed a glance at the paper to realize the girl on the front page was Lily Evans. Skimming through the article, his momentary relief at her life saved was cut short by reading of the death of Lyle Atkins and his family. Shock hit him hard for when his mind came to, he was in the field outside his house, the paper wrung between his hands. Tears had cascaded down his face as he sat in the long grass. Remus was unsure of how many times he reread the article.

Lily was alive and Lyle was dead.

Distraught, Remus did not return to the house until dark. When he finally entered his house, Remus began up the stairs, ignoring his mother’s calls after him. On his bed were two letters; both from James. The first asking if Remus heard the news and ending with James asking him to floo at once. The second, questioning his whereabouts and informing Remus that James, Sirius and Peter would be arrive to his house the following morning. Not feeling the need to respond to James, Remus put the letters in his desk drawer. Sitting down, he pulled out a piece of parchment and formed a letter to Lily. It was quick and simple; Remus was not asking for details but conveyed his sorrow for the ordeal, his hatred for the growing war and asking after Lily’s health. 

Her response came the following day as Remus and the rest of the Marauders were in his family room. Sirius was entranced by a soap drama that Remus’ mother was watching as well. Peter and James were quietly playing chess on the floor in front of Remus, who was feigning attention towards a book although his thoughts were elsewhere. Hearing the unmistakeable peck of an owl at the window, Remus knew it was for him. 

Remus, 

I hope you’re quite well, you were in my thoughts this past week and I hope all is well with you.

My family and I are in near perfect health, not to worry. I find myself unable to talk about the night’s events although I hope you know I feel very fortunate to have friends seeking after me. My hand is tired from responding to inquiries and my mind is muddled from speaking with Dumbledore (what else is new) for the umpteenth time.

I’ve got to write quickly now, as Frank Longbottom is accompanying me to the Ministry and he has just arrived (By the by, he grew a beard and I’ve been quite distracted marveling at it’s patchiness, poor Frank. I think I’ll spend the better half of the day trying to convince him to shave!). 

I’m forbidden by the Ministry to attend the funerals as they believe it best that I lay low. I threw a fit over not being able to attend Lyle’s funeral, so I believe I maybe there. I find out later today if I can. How could I not pay my respects to Lyle? Really, how preposterous to think I would not go. 

I just have to add my most recent revelations, however idiotic they may sound: this is truly war. Hogwarts has protected us from seeing true evil and I know that now. Last night you wrote that what had happen was unfair and unjust and of course, Remus, I wholeheartedly agree. 

However unfair and unjust; if this didn’t happen today it would’ve happened tomorrow.  
I suppose now is the time to prepare for battle? 

Cheers,  
Lily

“Holy shit, Evans.” said Sirius as he scanned through the letter. Sirius’ words seemed to perfectly lament what was going through every Marauder’s mind.

“It’s ironic she ended with cheers, innit?” questioned Peter. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t question the witch who took on three Death Eaters, mate.” said James as he settled back down on the floor, preparing to continue his chess match with Peter. 

Remus kept rereading Lily’s letter, her words ‘I suppose now is the time to prepare for battle’ stayed with him, echoing in his head for many days after. Words he repeatedly thought of as he watched a sobbing Winnie cry at her loss of Lyle. Words that he promised to keep as he watched Lyle, his mother, father and two sisters be lowered into their graves. 

Now was the time to prepare for battle. 

Lily was right; Hogwarts protected the students from the outside world and Remus was unsure to feel grateful or animosity towards his blindness to the horror of the war. Remus was ashamed he once casually read through articles of attacks, thinking how sad, before going on with his day. Now, he was unable to keep his fist from clenching in anger when he read articles on possible Death Eater attacks or activity. 

Today was September 1st, a day Remus once believed to be full of promise and excitement but, in his opinion, a day of change; marking the day he would grow up. No longer innocent to death or war, he could longer turn a blind eye to the world before him. He would change.

Reaching into his pocket, Remus pulled out his Prefect badge, identical to the one pinned onto Lily. Pinning it to himself, Remus decided to wear his badge as a promise to avenge those fallen; a promise to Lyle Atkins, the greatest Head Boy that never was.

 

(My very life today)

 

Coleman Graham leaned up against the compartment door frame, spinning a Quaffle on his finger. Coleman thought himself to be the essence of groovy. Modeling himself to every passerby and not so secretly enjoy the attention. Coleman smiled to the group of girls passing him, causing them to blush, scurrying down the carriage whilst giggling to each other. 

Coleman was entering his seventh and final year at Hogwarts; pleased that the seemingly perpetual hell of school was soon to be over. He was aching to graduate, start his career and become the legend he was destined to be. Coleman wasn’t destined to be some everyday Walter the wizard working for the weekend; he was going to be important, a necessity, a figurehead to be swooned over and respected.

When Coleman first found he was a wizard, he was enamored with magic. Sorted into Ravenclaw, he spent hours pouring over books and learning every spell he could possibly try. He would ask for extra assignments, study for examinations weeks beforehand and would review in his head constantly in lieu of social interactions. 

Coleman dreamed of becoming the Minister of Magic, almighty commander of Wizarding World of Great Britain. 

Top of his class, Coleman wasn’t satisfied. 

I’m a nobody, Coleman thought as he watched the popular lot during meals, enamored with their ease and fluid funk. Denise Whittaker who could walk up to any group and sit down, welcome because she was so cool. The Marauders laughing amongst themselves, with their legendary pranks always being a daily topic. Erich Kroger and his slicked back hair, who would openly flirt with Marnie Gable, jealous stares and longing looks from those enamored with one or the other. 

The summer before fifth year began, Coleman changed his appearance entirely. Growing up on the beach in Cornwall, he knew the lifeguards since he was a lad, so it was easy to secure a position. Lifeguarding in the summer gave him the physique and tan he needed to make him, incredibly good looking. Hours in front of the mirror allowed him to perfect slick back hair do and practice his looks. Allowing to be a mannequin for his Mum, sister and shopgirls, he gained a new wardrobe without lifting a finger. 

When he arrived at Kings Cross, it was obvious the female population agreed. Within the first hour of the train ride, three girls had chatted him up. By the end of the first day back, Coleman couldn’t walk by a girl without her smiling at him or stopping to introduce themselves. Towards the end of the week, Coleman was officially in with the in crowd. 

During the summer, he also worked at a Quidditch supply shop in exchange for lessons from the ex-professional who ran it. Coleman didn’t want the lame position of being a Beater or Keeper. He was going to be a Chaser, like James Potter, but better. After grueling months of training, tryouts to become Chaser on the Ravenclaw House team was a breeze. Coleman knew he sealed the deal on his popularity. He was surely one of the, if not the most popular guy, at Hogwarts.

However, now he needed to secure it and there was only one element missing to keep him on top. An element that would keep tongues wagging and the wanton need to be or be with Coleman. Coleman needed a girlfriend, but more importantly, a popular girlfriend. 

His hunt began with a list of contenders from every house at Hogwarts. Then he divided the list of prospective candidates into categories; age, hair color, personality, beauty and popularity. Once he divided the categories, he wrote a pro/con list about each.

Nasim Denan was a Middle Eastern beauty, but passed gas once, loudly, during Defence Against the Dark Arts. Emmeline Vance was pretty, but her shoulders were too broad from Quidditch. Marnie Gable was still allegedly dating the newly graduated Erich Kroger. Cynthia Faring was a Slytherin and although he wasn’t totally opposed, he was opposed to the weirdoes she was hanging out with. Such a shame that Louise Castle seemingly lost her mind after a bad trip down acid lane; what a bird.

Coleman narrowed his search to two girls: Lily Evans and Agatha Harlow.

Agatha Harlow, or Aggy, was in his year, had chestnut hair and a cute button nose. She was incredibly beautiful, she had a bit of a reputation, which Coleman believed he could make do with. Coleman would gain much needed experience dating her quite quickly and he believed that Aggy would be a enthusiastic and titillating mentor.

Lily Evans was a year younger; her pale skin and green eyes would offset his blue eyes and tan skin perfectly and she was quite pretty even though she was a muggleborn. Coleman liked Lily for her popularity, good girl persona, and a smile that outshone his.

After hearing about Aggy and Tag Morrison receiving detention for getting down and dirty in classroom; Coleman came to the conclusion that Lily was his preferred candidate. The following day, Coleman left his class early to be leaning up against the wall, just so, when she left Potions.

Lily was walking out with her friends; bland Dorcas, very bland Chelsea, slutty-in-a-good-way Cassidy and creepy-although-hot Marlene. Coleman heard her before he saw her, her loud laughing echoing off the dungeon walls as Lily walked closer to him. She didn’t see him at first, but Dorcas nudged her as they got closer. Looking at Dorcas briefly before following her stare, she caught Coleman’s eye and beamed at him. 

Immediately taken, Coleman cupped his hand to his mouth, and called “Alright, Lily?”, from where he was standing. Blushing, like good girls do in Coleman’s opinion, she called back “Alright, Coleman”. 

Lily hung back from her mates as they carried on past him. Smiling as if in a contest, Coleman asked if he could carry her books to lunch. Nodding and blushing once more, he helped take off her bag before Coleman slung it over his shoulders. “So what’s Ol’ Sluggy making you Fourth years brew this week?” Coleman asked as the began walking. 

Coleman didn’t even realize they were standing outside of the Great Hall until their peers began pouring out of it. 

“It seems as though we missed lunch.” said Coleman, still holding onto her bag. “Sorry, I didn’t notice that time had gone so quickly.” He finished, smiling at her once more.

“Me neither, honestly, too bad ‘cause Charms will be murder without food.” said Lily, reaching to pull her bag off of Coleman’s shoulder. 

“Well, I have Herbology and I would skip if you skipped Charms.” said Coleman, moving his shoulder to prevent Lily grabbing her bag. 

“Oh? and do what?” laughed Lily when he dodged her reach. 

“Eat, of course.” said Coleman, grabbing her hand as the last of the stragglers from lunch finished coming out of the Great Hall. Pulling her towards the kitchens, he had decided that skipping classes was worth it for his popular potential girlfriend. 

By the end of the night, they were going to Hogsmeade together. Within the week after, it was official that Coleman Graham and Lily Evans were dating. Coleman was absolutely tickled. His mates congratulated him on his great catch, he could see the jealously from other blokes, envy from other female hopefuls, but more importantly; his popularity solidified.

As Coleman posed at the threshold of his compartment, he couldn’t wait to see Lily once more. She had visited him in Cornwall during the summer, where their relationship became even more picturesque to outside viewer. Lily would jump in his arms in the water and Coleman would spin her around before dunking her under. They would spend early mornings outside of a coffee shop where Lily, quite inappropriately, as she was told by the modest older women of the town, would sit on Coleman’s lap as she read the paper. For the first time,Coleman was enamored with her, and the way she would always come onto him by asking him to rub aloe vera on her practically nonexistent burn.

He was depressed when she left; unsure of why he felt so sad. Hell, he didn’t even feel sad when that Atkins bloke kicked the bucket. “Spare the details, mum, that’s the bloke who stole Head Boy from me.” said Coleman, tucking into his breakfast as his mother read him the news. It was all anyone talked of for the rest of the summer; Lyle Atkins or Nadine Parker or That Girl who caught the Death Eaters. The topic being so annoying to Coleman, he didn’t let his mother read him the paper anymore. 

“Parker was found in bits…bits!” said one witch to another, her fat hands clasped around heavy books, “I heard her children were blasted as well, poor dears…”.

Rolling his eyes as Coleman walked, hand in hand with Lily down Diagon Alley, he couldn’t keep from scoffing.“Obnoxious, innit?” asked Coleman to Lily, referencing the conversation he overheard from the passing by witches talking of the incident. 

“What’s that, Cole?” questioned Lily, whose head was down as she was looking in her bag, giving up her search once the witches passed by. 

“This whole…thing…” answered Coleman, his hand waving in front of him. “With that girl…what’s she called again?” he continued, redirecting the pair towards the Quidditch shop. “Oh right! The Girl Who Lived? How naff, I mean who writes for the Prophet? Who comes up with this shite?” 

“I have to agree, what a ridiculous title.” Lily murmured in agreement, looking into Coleman’s shoulder as she and Coleman passed another twittering group, overhearing them talk of the unidentified witch.

“Ridiculous notion, more like it. A bird taking down Death Eaters? Propaganda, I’m sure. Even if it was real, who would believe it? Isn’t she supposed to be thirteen or fourteen?” laughed Coleman, “But really who cares, I mean this happened weeks ago—“ Coleman stopped as he felt Lily pull her hand from his. 

“I’m going to ignore that sexist remark for a moment, only to remind you—people died. Quite a few people died, Coleman, either in their beds or tortured. Coleman, your classmate died. Lyle died. This is real. For the love of Merlin, have some respect.” said Lily, slapping his hand away when he reached for her again. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t.” said Coleman quickly, “I meant it as…it’s old news Lily.” finished Coleman, cringing the moment he finished his sentence, regretting the words he had chosen. Lily stared at him for a long moment. 

“Piss off, Coleman.” said Lily, before storming away, head down as she disappeared in the crowd. Coleman wrote and wrote; explaining himself in various ways, apologizing for his insensitivity and blaming a fabled troubled childhood for his ignorance. Finally he received a response, a simple ‘It’s fine, see you on the train.’

Coleman had never been more relieved; his popularity wouldn’t be ruined by rumors of cause for their break-up. 

Although wrought with anxiety, Coleman still smiled to a group of girls passing him for the second time. “Coleman! Mate!” A voice shouted from the end of the train corridor, turning to see his best mate Wendell, Coleman smiled even brighter and spun the Quaffle on his finger once more. 

“Casually showing off? What else is new?” asked Wendell, not waiting for a response before greeting the group in the compartment Coleman was outside off. “Did the trolley come by?” asked Wendell once more to Coleman. Nodding affirmative that it had, Coleman continued spinning the Quaffle, Wendell swore.

“I was chasing Aggy, bloody hell! Come with me?” said Wendell to Coleman, tossing the Quaffle to one of his mates in the compartment, Coleman motioned for him to follow. 

“Chasing Aggy, Wendy?” asked Coleman as they moved down the corridor, Coleman and Wendell waving into a compartment of Ravenclaws.

“What? A lad needs an easy win now and again.” replied Wendell casually, winking at Coleman, eliciting a laugh from Coleman. Pausing to allow a few Gryffindor girls to pass, Coleman glanced into the final compartment at the end of the carriage, spotting Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black lounging about through the open compartment door.

“Didn’t Lily visit you a few weeks this summer?” asked Wendell, quite loudly when he spotted half of the Marauders in the compartment. Smiling at Coleman, he nodded for him to continue to move forward after his loud question caught Sirius Black’s attention. “Really, how was it?” prompted Wendell as they crossed into the next carriage, the trolley mid way down. 

“It was pretty swell.” said Coleman, momentarily distracted by a passerby holding the Daily Prophet with the headline ‘To The Girl That Lived’, his eyes locked onto a photo of a girl with a bloody face.Coleman stared for a moment after the paper disappeared from view, blinking in wonderment at the familiarity of the girl on the newspaper.

“Pretty swell? A bird visits you in Cornhell and its pretty swell?” teased Wendell as he moved passed Coleman to the trolley. “I hear wedding bells…” Wendell added before losing his thought as he was overcome with treat possibilities.

“She came for two weeks, it was quite fun. She’s almost tan, think of that— a tan ginger.” replied Coleman, ignoring Wendell’s insinuation of marriage. Coleman’s mind was still wrapped up in the picture he just saw in passing. That face, Coleman thought as he mindlessly watched Wendell search for treats another moment, before Wendell paid. 

“She came for two weeks, huh?” Asked Wendell, jumping back into conversation as he collected his change. “She came for two weeks or she came for two weeks?” asked Wendell, emphasizing the word ‘came’, as he waggled his eyebrows at Coleman. 

“You’re a pig, mate” laughed Coleman, turning to move back towards his original compartment only to be blocked by fellow classmates wanting food from the trolley. “Pardon” said Coleman moving past the crowd, looking up briefly, his eyes caught James Potter’s in passing. Smirking, Coleman was delighted at the possibility of Potter hearing his summer excursions with Lily.

James Potter was a constant, incessant pest in Coleman and Lily’s relationship. Once an inspiration for Coleman’s popularity, Coleman now cringed at the thought of once wanting to be like James Potter. Obnoxious, foul-mouthed, immature, scuttle-brained were few of the many non vulgar descriptives Coleman thought of James. 

When Coleman joined the Quidditch team he was apparently, suddenly relevant in James Potter’s eyes. Nodding to each other in the corridors and on the pitch, they seemingly had a mutual respect for each other’s talent. A mutual respect that once made Coleman’s stomach flip with glee but now, whenever he saw James Potter, made him want to punch a wall.

Coleman wasn’t an idiot; he knew. He knew before James Potter admitted it to himself.

Last year, early on, Coleman was with Lily at Three Broomsticks during a Hogsmeade weekend. Coleman and Lily were facing each other by the bar, his hands nonchalantly on her waist, tapping to the music if he remembered correctly. Looking picturesque, as they should. They were talking to their mates, Coleman to his mate Tyler and Lily to Marlene perhaps, when Remus Lupin passed with James Potter in tow. Remus stopped to talk to Lily and Coleman looked to James in expectance of a greeting, when Coleman noticed his expression. 

James Potter was staring intently at Lily, who had briefly smiled as a greeting before animatedly talking to Remus. James was searching her face, looking as if he was going to memorize it before he ran his hand through his hair; drawing Lily’s attention to him. 

Coleman immediately interjected himself in the conversation. 

“Coco!” shouted a female voice from the other end of the carriage in which Coleman and Wendell just entered. “Coco!” She called again, immediately Coleman knew who it was calling him. Relief flooded through his veins at Lily using that idiotic pet name.

“Coco!” laughed Lily, pushing past a few Hufflepuffs, with Remus Lupin in tow. Cackling at Coleman’s grimace, she threw her arms around him before giving him a peck on the cheek. Releasing him, she started laughing as Wendell questioned “Coco?” 

“His mummy’s pet name for him!” She snickered before giving Wendell a hug. Greeting Remus with a handshake, Coleman blatantly ignored Lily and Wendell. 

“How did the holiday treat you, Remus?” inquired Coleman. 

“Mostly well, not one to complain.” smiled Remus, his eyes moving past Coleman, as if searching for his mates.

“They’re four compartments down.” nodded Coleman to Remus, who smiled gratefully at the information. Briefly smiling to Wendell as he passed, Remus began to move down the carriage. 

“Let’s catch up to finish patrol in a bit Remus!” called Lily to his retreating figure. Remus turned to do a quick bow before disappearing into a compartment. Coleman heard a vague “Moony!” from James Potter who had just appeared at the threshold of the carriage, having returned from the treat trolley.

“…Or not” she smiled cheekily at Coleman before leaning in for a snog. Enveloping Lily in his arms, Coleman relished in the fact that James Potter was most definitely watching their interaction. Although delighted to see Lily, no longer anxious for their reconciliation; Coleman was still thinking of the girl on the paper. 

Who was she? More importantly…did she go to Hogwarts?

 

(If I don't get some shelter)

 

The first days of classes were always such a drag, in James Potter’s opinion. It was so ironic that he would spend of summer holidays wishing for school, only to be stuck in a purgatory of monotony upon his return. 

Tapping his quill mindlessly on his desk whilst pretending to listen to Binns, he shifted for the hundredth time in his seat. Too satisfied with his doodle to continue, a Quidditch Pitch— truly a masterpiece— James was weary with boredom. Briefly looking out the window, James stared at the morning haze of fog. Fucking, bloody fog, thought James, quite miffed he would be unable to fly if the weather kept. Sighing, he rolled his head towards Binns once more.

Vaguely listening to the lecture, something of dragon legislation, James glanced at his mates. Remus, always the good student, in the seat before him was actively taking notes, albeit looking quite weary himself. Quickly jotting down ‘I bet this threw you off!’, James tore a piece of parchment, showing it to Sirius, who snorted in amusement when James mimed his intentions. 

James balled it and threw it at Remus’ head. 

Unable to keep from groaning, Remus slowly opened the parchment, reading the note before casting a disparaging look at James and Sirius. Smirking to Sirius, James caught Peter staring questioningly at the pair from the seat next to Remus. Writing once more on his parchment, this time ‘We’re planning to off you!’, James lifted his parchment to show Peter, who guffawed in response. Remus, who had read the note, rolled his eyes. Sighing loudly as he jotted down a message, Remus simply held it over his shoulder for James and Sirius to read. ‘We’re in sixth year, piss off.’ 

Grateful to Remus for a hearty laugh, James leaned back in his chair after a few minutes, content with disturbing his mates. “…Dragon reserves were sanctioned in 1744 after a high season of poaching, endangering seven dragon species….”, Binns prattled on. Crossing his arms, James looked over the room from his back row seat. 

He was glad to know his peers were just as miserable; Bugsy Fletcher looked the epitome of boredom, his eyes cast towards the ceiling, possibly praying lightening would strike. Dorcas Meadowes was folding her parchment into some form of poor origami. John Berry and Mark Matoose were in quiet hysterics over a wrong move in paper Quidditch, and Louise Castle looked dreary yet smiled at James when they made eye contact from across the room, which he happily returned. 

He finally allowed his eyes to rest on Lily Evans, who, surprisingly, wasn’t taking notes but picking at her nails. James watched as Lily tore a thumbnail off, her face in a grimace before she put her finger in her mouth. Flipping her pinned back hair over her shoulder, Lily stared at finger once more. James wondered what she was thinking and why she wasn’t taking notes. In the past, James had only seen her momentarily distracted by Marlene McKinnon before once again taking notes. Today, Lily didn’t even have her quill out.

James watched Lily bite her nail before they briefly made eye contact. His stomach flipped when their eyes met, as it always tended to do when he looked in her eyes. James tried to casually play it as if he was scanning the room, moving his gaze to stare at Marlene, who was reading a magazine.

He could feel Lily watching him, causing his heart to pound. Last year, he would stare back, as taking in Lily’s features for the thousandth time was never tiresome. Although now, now it was different. 

She was different and it scared him.

After the Start-of-Term Feast, James found himself in the common room with his mates. Although tired, it was so good to finally be back and it was obvious other Gryffindor students felt the same; the common room was buzzing with talking and laughter. James was glad he took the couch upon arrival, he was so full, if he had to stand he wouldn’t have stayed downstairs in fear of passing out.

James was staring into the fire, on the verge of being comatose from stuffing himself with food at the feast. Sirius was arguing with Marlene, an impromptu debate on the sexuality of her possible future male conquest. Remus was interjecting himself when needed, to keep the offensive language and banter to an appropriate minimum but otherwise involved in a book. James switched from listening to Sirius and Marlene to watching Peter hopelessly flirt with Daphne Georges, the empty headed fifth year who Peter had tried to date the previous year. 

His eyes bleary, James leaned his head back in his hands, listening to Daphne snort with laughter at Peter’s jokes and Sirius mimic Remus’ admonishes to him and Marlene.

“Wotcher Dorc.” said James as Dorcas passed by, crossing over to sit by Marlene on the coffee table. 

“How was your holiday, Potter? Name any mystical creatures?” responded Dorcas, smiling as she settled down, blocking James’ view of the fire. 

“One or two,” smiled James, “How was yours? Quite well?” 

“If quite well and boring go hand in hand, then yes. Quite well.” joked Dorcas. James always enjoyed Dorcas; she was a interesting girl who could give good conversation without it having to be gossip. Chatting with Dorcas always meant sweeping through a wide range of topics before undoubtedly settling on travel. Dorcas had lived in twelve countries by the time she was eleven and still traveled during her holidays; her and James could swap stories for days. 

“It’s not that I find France abysmal, it’s just that…” paused Dorcas as she thought. “… So many of French wizards have been rude to me, I can’t stand the lot anymore…I know I sound horrible! I know! I know I do, but you asked!” she laughed as she defended herself causing James to laugh. 

“I can’t say I don’t agree however—“ James began, only to be cut off by Lily Evans, standing behind the couch he and Peter were on.

“It’s nearing 11, we better turn in.” said Lily to Dorcas and Marlene. “Sorry, Potter.” She added, looking down at James who was staring up at her, unable to keep from wondering if her new freckles were from her summer adventures with Coleman. 

James looked around the common room only a few were left, mostly couples happy to be reunited with their other halves. The fire behind Dorcas was dying out, and the common room was significantly darker, as if supporting Lily’s need retire to bed. 

“10 more minutes mum! please!” whined Marlene, who had moved to the arm of Sirius’ chair, her arm casually thrown over him. Sirius and Dorcas chimed in to agree with her, causing Lily to roll her eyes, only to land them on a snogging Daphne and Peter. Pulling a disgusted face, she looked around only to have the rest nod in agreement.

“How was your summer, Evans? Eventful?” asked James still staring up at her. Lily looked down at him, her eyes darkened by the light or the question, James couldn’t tell. 

“One could say that.” responded Lily, not looking at him but into the fire. James’ question silenced the group, all were staring at her but Peter and Daphne who seemed to be in a world of their own. 

“How are you?” asked Remus, his voice soft from his armchair. Lily sighed in response, shrugging as she slowly sat on the corner of the coffee table. 

For the next hour she quietly talked, filling in the blank spaces for the group. They all individually reflected on the moment the realized it was Lily on the front page, laughing especially hard when Dorcas deadpanned a shocked expression. Lily nodding silently, playing with her hands when James let Lily know Remus didn’t tell them; the rest of the Marauders knew the second they saw the photo. 

Marlene waited until Daphne sauntered off to divulge information she picked up from eavesdropping on her father, the Head Auror at the Ministry of Magic. It made James briefly recall the previous year, when Marlene would only smirk in response to questions over inside information on the Wizarding War. 

“How did you live, Evans?” Peter finally asked the question that had ran across everyone’s mind when they saw her bloody face on the newspaper.

“Not a fucking clue, Pettigrew.” Lily laughed dryly, her smile slowly fading as she seemingly relived the night in her mind.

“Care to drop anymore details?” asked Sirius, lazily leaned into Marlene who was mindlessly stroking his hair.

Scanning the room to ensure they were the only persons left, Lily hesitated a moment before she retold her harrowing ordeal. James listened to her in rapt attention, watching her describe with her hands and entranced by her intricate details, ‘His eyes were hollow, empty; it was terrifying..’. James found himself truly intimidated by Lily Evans.

Lily wasn’t the same as she was last year. James knew Lily wasn’t a carefree girl anymore, but a fearless luminary. 

At the end of her retelling, there was only a brief pause before Remus engaged her on the conversation of war. Too tired to hear a debate, a debate that had taken place countless times over the past few years; always surmised with everyone agreeing Dumbledore would save the day. James groaned when Dorcas joined in, crippling the chance of a continuance on their previous conversation. Closing his eyes, he listened as Dorcas complained of the lack of movement at Hogwarts.

“What can we do? Nothing.” interjected James, interrupting Remus as he responded to a question Dorcas posed of involvement at Hogwarts.

“Nothing?” Asked Lily, arching her eyebrow at James as if daring him to proceed.

“I’m not saying don’t do anything but…what can we do? We’re underage wizards and as if that matters… We’re not Dumbledore. We can’t piece together defence strategies at one whatever in the morning and benefit anyone. Even if we could, how could we go about it? We’re at a standstill until we’re legal, so piss it, enjoy yourself.” ended James, knowing quite well Lily would have it in for him but also knowing he was quite right. 

“Enjoy myself…hmm…maybe that’s why those bloody Death Eaters attacked me, they were jealous I was underage and enjoying myself.” Lily said sarcastically.

“That’s not what I meant, Evans.” responded James evenly, annoyed at her interpretation.

“Oh right, I bet you meant to wait around for Dumbledore to take your hand and guide you to safety?” said Lily, mocking him to the rest of the group.

“That’s not what I meant, Evans.” responded James once more, his tone clipped. Aware of Marlene moving away from Sirius, who was now sitting up, intently staring at him, James put his hand up to Sirius the same moment Lily shook off Dorcas’ hand from her shoulder.

“Enjoy yourself, Potter, you deserve to. I wish I could enjoy blissful ignorance, except every night I can still feel that bloody Death Eater gouging at my neck. Every night, I still feel the shame of my hopelessness when I almost gave up fighting. Every night, I can still hear my mother and sister screaming, them not knowing if I was dead and me not knowing if they were about to be murdered. Where was Dumbledore when I needed him? Where was he when Lyle needed him?” Asked Lily to James, her voice suddenly frantic. “Thank Merlin I’m not so dependent on Dumbledore as you are, because if I were, I’d be dead.” said Lily venomously, ending harshly as she glared into James’ eyes. 

“Well, on that note, we should turn in.” said Marlene after silence lingered amongst the group. Lily stood up slowly, her eyes finally breaking from James’ as she turned away. Remus closed his book, staring into the fire as he paused in mid-motion, seemingly unsure of what to do. Peter moved off the couch, stretching as he stood, nodding to Dorcas as she smiled apologetically, shifting past him. 

“Sweet dreams all, hope you sleep well.” said Lily, “Except you Potter—I hope you wake up.” She added, smirking before disappearing up the stairwell to the dormitories. Marlene softly winced, grimacing to James as she and Dorcas followed Lily up the stairs. 

After a heavy pause between the Marauders, James told the rest to go up to their dormitory, claiming he was too tired to move just yet. Remus and Peter went upstairs, Remus standing and nodding before leaving with Peter who left immediately at word, grateful to get away. Sirius stood as well, but only to move next to James on the couch. Both stared into the fire, watching the magically enflamed charcoals. 

“That’s not what I meant.” said James to Sirius, needing his best mate’s validation. 

“Of course, Prongs.” said Sirius, quite simply as he stretched his legs onto the coffee table.

James realized something in that moment; the battle was nearing and James needed to make sure he was on Lily Evans’ side.

Pulling himself from memories of last night, James quickly looked at his watch. An hour left, thought James, his misery burdening him. Glancing at Sirius, who was now staring forward with a glazed look in his eyes, James moved forward, straightening up. Yawning, James lifted his arms into a stretch, stretching just so thus successfully sweeping all of Sirius’ belongings onto the floor. 

The abrupt noise and Peter’s snickers made many students look towards them, James relishing in the continued attention of Lily looking at him. Knowing Lily was still watching, James ran his hand through his hair before leaning the legs back on his chair once more, smiling towards Sirius who was picking up his books.

It was good to be back, in James’ opinion, smiling at the thought of being back at school. 

James suddenly felt guilty at his happiness. Lyle Atkins was dead, poor bloke. What a good bloke, thought James, as he always did when he thought of Lyle. Poor Lyle, who seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time too many times.

Shaking off his sadness, he turned his attention to Sirius, who looked as though he was intent on revenge. As if Sirius knew that James knew, Sirius suddenly gave a swift kick to James’ chair, causing James to drop.

A resounding thud filled the room, followed by the loud crack a split second later, the sound being James’ skull meeting ground. ‘Oh Fuck!’ were the last words James heard before losing consciousness.

 

(Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away)

 

Unable to hear nothing but her heart pounding in her ears, Lily Evans was quite sure she was on the verge of passing out. It was early Sunday morning but the humidity was high, so much so Lily found herself sweating within minutes of her jog. Brushing her hand over her forehead, wiping the sweat from her brow as she ran, Lily finally turned northward on the bend of the Great Lake. Catching a quick glimpse of Hogwarts before it disappeared into fog, she continued on.

The morning fog was intense today, so much so Lily delayed her run in hopes it would clear. The light white glow of the fog in the morning light put her on edge, but with her wand tucked into her waistband, she remained adamant on following her jogging schedule. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays, Lily spent her morning running. After years of perfecting her route she only changed it seasonally, although rain or snow didn’t usually prevent her from being outside.

Appropriately starting at the Front Door of Hogwarts, Lily jogged the sloped terrain of the grounds to the Great Lake. Once at the Great Lake, Lily would jog the circumference, using the path to the Hogsmeade station on her way south. After passing the Shrieking Shack, Lily would be northbound once more, returning to the castle outside of the Great Hall for breakfast or circling back to run once more.

Lily was on her fourth turn about the lake.

Jogging was casually infringing upon the rules; a jogging route that flirted with leaving the grounds and being on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. A route that had become popular with other students for exercise or other activities, It wasn’t uncommon to see classmates. By the Shrieking Shack, Lily had passed Coleman’s mate Wendell practically paralyzed with a cramp, poor Wendy— he made the mistake of eating first. 

Typically Lily didn’t run alone; Dorcas was a strong runner but she was practically unwakeable in the morning. Marlene was the worst, constantly complaining and gave up mid-way to walk. Coleman was just as bad if not worse, as he preferred Quidditch and was sure to remind Lily time and again. Lily’s preferred jogging mate was Remus, he was quiet and could keep pace. However, when Lily went to fetch him that morning, he and the rest of the conscious Marauders were missing.

Her thighs burning, Lily lessened her pace to a walk. Looking down at her sneakers, she could still hear her heart racing in her ears. Swallowing the dryness from her throat, she began stretching her legs as she braced herself to continue her jog. Hearing feet upon gravel behind her she turned quickly, only to face two Hufflepuffs about to pass her.

“Evans, where’s Graham this fine morning?” called John Berry, the Hufflepuff Keeper.

“Probably sleeping, lazy bastard!” Lily called back, smiling as she elicited a laugh from John and Peter Croft, who Lily recognized as the boy who really couldn’t handle his drink last year at The Three Broomsticks.

“Want us to hold back a mo’?” asked John as he and Peter slowed their jog, watching Lily stretch her leg. I must really look like shite, thought Lily. 

“Don’t bother over me, I always push my limit the first week back.” responded Lily, her legs aching as she pulled the other one into a stretch. “I should know four laps by now is total agony.” 

“Four laps? Holy shite, Evans.” spoke Peter, looking horrified at the prospect. 

“See, I’m a right idiot.” quipped Lily, waving her hand at them. “Please continue, I’m sure I’ll be passing you in a few.” 

“Typical Evans,” laughed John as he picked up his pace again, “Give a shout if I need to throw you over my shoulder!” 

Lily responded with a rude gesture, giving the boys a laugh before they proceeded. Unable to hear them any longer, she watched as the became small dark shadows in the fog. Looking up into the white sky, Lily breathed heavily as she stared into the white nothingness. After a few minutes she began to walk, unable to bring herself to run. 

Redirecting herself towards a large boulder, soon enough Lily found herself sitting on the large, mossy rock staring across the lake. For the first time in a week, she was alone. Truly alone. A frightening prospect in her mind, as when she was alone, Lily had the tendency to cry. Unable to keep her tears from brimming even now, she watched as fog danced across the surface of the lake. 

Within moments of starting back at Hogwarts Lily had come to a conclusion: school was a sham. Lily should have seen it years ago, the warning signs of the bloody, stupid war was in front of her face and she chose to ignore it. She chose to ignore it and she almost died in doing so. Scoffing to dark vastness of the lake, a tear fell down her cheek. 

Lyle Atkins was dead.

‘Undoubtedly brave and defiant, Miss Evans, but I now must recommend you to be on guard from those who do not share your strong opinions.’ Read a line from the letter Dumbledore had sent her, warning her to be careful before the attack. He knew, he knew she would be a target and only sent her letter to be mindful of a possibility of attack. Dumbledore knew.

Dumbledore, who didn’t even bother to send Lyle a letter. 

At least, that what Lily had concluded after harassing Frank Longbottom to search for it in Lyle’s house. Empty handed and confused, Lily felt tried not to feel shameful after accusing Dumbledore of not caring for Lyle. Who was she to know what Lyle did with the letter?, a thought that constantly rang through her mind after Frank angrily defended Dumbledore. 

For too long she lived under a bogus notion of safety, learning and camaraderie. Lily found the rest of Hogwarts to be under a false pretense and it made her sick. It was all Dumbledore’s fault. He kept the war under wraps, briefly warning them before setting them loose for the summer, loose into the war torn Wizarding World.

She had respected Dumbledore because he was impressive; his wise words resonated through her at feasts. Lily was in awe of him, her proximity to such a great wizard, defeater of Grindelwald. In her fifth year career counseling, unsure of what career she wanted to pursue, she found herself desperately asking “what did Dumbledore do? What classes did he take?”

Now, Lily was in every course Dumbledore took his sixth year and now, Lyle Atkins was dead.

Aware of the steady stream of tears down her cheeks but too uncaring to wipe them away, Lily let them be. Her eyes hurt, unmoving from the glassy surface of the Great Lake. Fury soared through her as it tended to do when she now thought of Dumbledore, her stomach flipped at the very thought of her ever wanting to emulate him.

Dumbledore, who was quite possibly the reason why Lyle Atkins was dead. 

A thought that lingered through her mind endlessly. Lyle’s absence distinctly noticeable from the get-go. A moment of silence was held for him at the at the Prefect’s meeting on the Hogwarts Express and the Start-of-Term Feast; a pause that would never be long enough. Lily wished to see him from afar, waving at her from across the Great Hall, a corridor or the library. She missed talking to him, forcibly listening to his theories of Ancient Runes that she always dismissed.

Lyle Atkins died in his bed, lucky he died without tortured and yet so unfortunate because maybe, maybe if he was awake he would’ve lived. Maybe he would’ve been featured on the front page of The Daily Prophet as a hero, a constant barrage of unwanted attention being the preferable option over death. If only he was given a chance, Lily was sure Lyle would’ve defeated his attackers.

“Evans!” a voiced echoed into Lily’s head. “Lily, Lily, Lily! Evans! Snap out of it!” the voice rang out once more, accompanied by fingers snapping in her face, startling Lily, causing her to jump.

“Merlin, Black!” gasped Lily as she put her hand to her heart, feeling her pulse beat wildly. 

“Sorry Evans, but you were out of it. I passed by and said hello, you didn’t respond. Very rude, so I came to give you a piece of my mind.” responded Sirius, shrugging. “Didn’t realize you were catatonic. Do you even run or do you just stare at the lake?” he continued, thankfully looking away as she wiped her face of any rogue tears.

“Oh sod off, Black. Don’t be such a tosser.” said Lily as she began to scoot down from the boulder, as she was about to hop off, she gratefully took the hand Sirius offered her, only taking it to remain balance. “Thanks. My legs cramped, so I was resting for a tad.” She said to Sirius as he nodded in response, as he motioned for her to take the lead as they began to walk.

Looking out over the lake, she now realized she could see Hogwarts quite clearly. The fog that obstructed her view had dissipated and the sun was casting itself upon the grounds. Unsure of how long she had been outside, but guessing the time was encroaching noon, Lily silently cursed her thighs for being so weak. Noticing Sirius watching her as she chastised herself, she smiled at him briefly before asking, “How’s Potter?”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, “Wanker’s still out of it!” he responded, smiling to himself.

“Really, I don’t see how it’s funny, Black. He’s been unconscious for a week.” said Lily, unable to keep from rolling her eyes. 

“Almost a week, Evans. You of all people should agree he needed a good whack in the head.” said Sirius pointedly, eliciting a snort of agreement from Lily. “He had it coming to him.” finished Sirius.

“I feel bad, last thing I said to him was ‘wake up’ and now here we are, basking in the irony.” said Lily as they approached the incline of the grounds as the approached the castle.

“Don’t bother feeling bad, James just had it coming to him.” said Sirius, smiling at Lily. “End of third year, right by exams, I won’t get into details but it was James’ fault and I was knocked unconscious. May 15th, last thing I remember was that git laughing and next thing I knew, I wake up in June, everybody left days before. ‘Cept James. So when he wakes up, I’ll be there and I’ll say the same he said to me when I woke up.” 

“What did he say?” Lily inquired, stopping to turn look at Sirius. Sirius stopped as well, moving his hands in circles to mock glasses. 

“Took long enough” Mocked Sirius in a West England accent, pitched exactly to sound like James. Unable to keep from laughing, it took Lily a long moment to regain her composure. 

“Spot on! How often do you mock Potter?” questioned Lily as she and Sirius began walking again.

“When do I not? Easy target.” laughed Sirius, obviously pleased with himself. “Oi, do us a favor?” asked Sirius, his tone changing.

“That being?” responded Lily as she began up the steps to the castle. 

“James didn’t mean what he said the other night. He was tired, can’t hold a bloke in contempt for the rubbish he says when he’s tired.” said Sirius following her up the steps.

“But rubbish and Potter go hand and hand.” countered Lily as she took the steps two at a time, her thighs burning at every step.

“On some points…yeah. So just forget it, he didn’t mean it. You know he didn’t mean it” said Sirius, closely behind. Lily hummed in response, neither feeling the need to agree or disagree on the topic of James Potter. Their conversation turned silent as they encountered a cobblestone pathway, leading directly into Hogwarts. Soon enough, Lily found herself at the Great Hall at the beginning of lunch. 

“Cheers, Evans.” said Sirius, nodding to her before moving to turn in the other direction. “Headed to hold vigil at James’ side.” he added, responded to the silent question etched on her face. Nodding her head, she waved him off.

Entering the Great Hall she quickly found herself in step with her mate Chelsea Sekler, who looked as if she had just awoken. Laughing at Chelsea’s brief complaints over her dormitory mate’s late night activities, Lily and Chelsea headed towards their mates. Lily felt her stomach seize when she noticed Dumbledore at the Head table, his first attendance since the Start-of-Term Feast. 

Feeling very tense, Lily tried to look relaxed as she was greeted by her mates. Fixing her plate, she was fully aware of being watched. Nodding in agreement to Dorcas’ statement of the Kippers being overcooked, Lily paused before tucking in; unable feign ignorance of being watched, Lily turned to the Head Table. 

It only took a split second for Lily to meet eyes with the Headmaster. Staring into his blue eyes, Lily found herself thinking, no—broadcasting, her thoughts to Dumbledore. Lyle’s dead because of you, Lily thought, her eyes unblinking as she continued to meet his gaze, You knew. Murderer, you’re a murderer. 

Breaking eye contact to respond to Bugsy Fletcher’s question of the weather, Lily looked back to the Head table once more. Dumbledore was now in conversation with McGonagall, but paused to nod to Lily, before returning to his conversation. Her stomach lurched and suddenly no longer hungry, Lily dropped her fork and stood excusing herself from the table. Briskly walking towards the doors, Lily felt Dumbledore’s stare as she left the Great Hall. 

It wasn’t until she was in view of the Hogsmeade Station did she realize she was on her jogging route again. Her thighs aching, seizing in pain, Lily stopped her run. 

Her tears were uncontrollably streaming down her face and she was panicking at her fast pulse. Lily found herself unable to control her breathing, her breathes releasing in quick wheezes. Her hands on her throat as she gasped for air, her tears trickling onto her hands; her mind was racing as she doubled over. 

Lyle Atkins was dead. Lyle’s dead, murdered. I should be dead, I should be dead, I should be dead. Lyle’s dead. He knew, Dumbledore knew and Lyle’s dead. I should be dead, Dumbledore know’s, I should be dead. He knew. He knew. Murderer. I’m next, I’m next, Dumbledore know’s I know. I’m next.

Bracing herself against a tree, Lily began sobbing heavily as her legs gave out. Collapsing onto the dirt surrounding the tree, Lily rested her head on the trunk of the tree. Blinded by her tears, she stared into heavens, wondering if she looked as hopeless as she felt. 

Lyle Atkins was dead. And she was next.

(War, children, it's just a shot away  
It's just a shot away)


End file.
